The Mask and the Rose
by Jungle Jenna
Summary: Erik is a servant at the Daae chateau. He is in love with the daughter, Christine. For many years he's hidden his love, but when she is arranged to marry the wealthy Raoul, he will do anything to keep her. No Raoul Bashing. EC pairing.
1. The Little Boy

THE MASK AND THE ROSE

A/N: Hello, Everyone. This is my second published phan-phic, so I'm fairly new on I hope this sounds better than the summary depicts it. I'm horrible at summaries, and I really can't stand them. But I hope you consider reading this, even if it does sound stupid. There will be no Raoul bashing in this phic, no Christine bashing, and no Erik bashing. It is an Erik and Christine spin-off, though. Please leave a review after you read this. I accept all types of reviews (except the downright cruel ones.)

-phantomangel132

THE MASK AND THE ROSE:

Chapter One: The Little Boy

Gerard (the Butler's) P.O.V:

I muttered angrily to myself as I marched briskly down the vast corridor. He was so vile, so contrite, my master was; proud and stuffy, with his chest puffed out like some arrogant bystander's. It vexed me to think such a greedy, horrible man could create such a beautiful, innocent, and sweet girl with another beautiful, innocent, and sweet woman.

I opened the storage room door quickly and stormed inside, slamming the door behind me. Everything was dark, except for the small rays of light seeping through the heavily curtained window. I pulled open the drapes to let more of the comforting, morning sunshine into the room. It would also help to find that bloody coffee he so rudely asked for.

I peeked between the heavy sacks of flour and sugar seated carefully onto the wooden shelves, yet I found none of the grains of coffee. I searched throughout many other parts of the storage room, moving different cans or sacks filled with something or other. But still: nothing. I decided to move on to the other part of the storage room. It couldn't possibly be in there, but it was worth a try.

I opened the creaky, splintered door and gazed inside the dark room. I crossed over the threshold and blindly found my way to the gas lamp perched onto the opposite wall. Once the room was illuminated with dull, yellow light, I gasped sharply and stared around the room with shock, my mouth hanging open and my eyes wide.

I could have sworn the entire floor was covered with all sorts of food: brown sugar, powdered sugar, flour, dried pasta noodles, broken glass with a white liquid substance surrounding it, crumbs of crackers scattered all over the floor, half eaten bits of cheese here and there. And then, lying limply in the farthest corner of the room was a small, skeletal boy with bruises and blistered cuts all over his legs, shoulders, and chest. A dirty rag was tied around his face, concealing his identity.

I scrambled across the room to the unconscious boy and carefully picked up his head and shoulders, my eyes hastily examining him. I was no doctor. I knew nothing about health. I was only a common butler serving an aristocratic family in France. But I knew without a single doubt, this boy, even if he had trespassed, needed serious care.

Without another thought, I gently gathered his entire body into my arms and carried him from the room quickly. I left the storage room with the gas lights running and the door swinging open. Through long corridors and up spiral staircases, I bustled as fast as my little legs could carry me to my master's bedroom.

"Good morning, Monsieur Gerard," greeted Amelia, one of the servants at the Daae household, as she passed by. "Wait, what is that in your arms?"

"Not now Amelia," I mumbled hoarsely while heaving up the stairs "I'll explain everything later, I promise."

I left her standing at the foot of the stairs, her eyes fixed on me and the little creature nestled in my arms with a bewildered expression plastered to her pretty features. I burst into the master's room without knocking. Master, Mademoiselle Daae, and Christine all turned their attentions on me.

"Gerard, "Master barked, "what are you doing in here-without knocking? I thought I told you to look for that coffee you failed to bring me this morning…"

His words stopped dead, his dark, angry eyes widening underneath his thick heavy brows. His mouth moved in wordless mumbles before setting his jaw straight and rigid.

"I found him unconscious in the storage room, master," I panted heavily. "He needs medical help very badly, sir; his body is covered with bruises and cuts."

Finally, master found his voice.

"Where does he come from?" he asked sharply.

"I'm not sure," I replied. "But with him I found a rather large mess on the floor, also. Sir, he really is in need for our help."

"Then don't just stand there, you fool!" Master boomed. "Bring him over here and lay him on the bed. I will send for Doctor Lafayette immediately."

Master and Mademoiselle Daae hurriedly jumped off the immense, downy bed in the middle of the room. I carried the injured boy over and set him cautiously on the bed. Mademoiselle Daae stepped next to me, her hand placed over her mouth.

"Oh my goodness," she said, "what happened to him?"

"I don't know," I replied. "But I sure am glad I found him."

Christine leaned against the bed and stared wonderingly at the little boy. She reached out to touch the rag covering his face, but her mother's hand shot out like a striking viper and quickly caught her hand.

"No, Christine," she said deeply. "You don't know where that's been. Please, just go in your room until either father or I come to get you."

"But mama-"argued Christine.

"Please!" Mademoiselle Daae interrupted. "Just do as I say."

Christine's face drooped as she quietly sulked from the room. Master returned a few moments later.

"I sent James to fetch Doctor Lafayette," Master informed us as he entered the room. Then he took a long, hard stare at the small creature lying motionless on the bed and shook his head unbelievingly. "Is he breathing, Gerard?"

"Yes," I replied. "I checked before I came to you. Master, what should we do for him? Doctor Lafayette won't arrive here in maybe a half hour."

"We should, at least, try to clean him up a little," Master said. "Gerard, go fetch some wet cloths and hot water, now!"

Without replying, I shot out of the room and down the hall to the linens closet. I grabbed several white cloths and a porcelain bowl. I filled the bowl with cool water. I didn't even think about boiling it. It would take much too long.

"Master," I said as I reentered the bedroom, "I could only bring you cool water. It would take too much time to warm it."

Master snatched the cloths and bowl from me and set them on the bureau sitting next to the bed. He placed his large hand to the boy's and slightly drew back in shock.

"He's blistering hot!" he exclaimed.

"He must have a fever," Mademoiselle Daae said from behind. "Who knows how long he has been like this, and he doesn't look as if he's been taken care of at all."

Master nodded his head in agreement as he wetted a cloth and began gently wiping the dried blood from his body. "It is very fortunate you found him in time, Gerard. Who knows what state he would have been in any later?"

"It wouldn't have been a long time since anyone found him," I said. "He was in the second storage room. It's very rare that anyone would go in there, unless the food in the first food storage begins running out."

I grabbed a cloth and dipped it in the cool water. I soothingly scrubbed at the red blisters formed all over his thin legs and scuffed up feet. Hardened blood coated the bottoms of his feet. I rubbed at his feet smoothly until it began to break away. When it was almost completely gone, I noticed a small glint reflecting from his feet.

"Master," I said. "He has a piece of glass stuck in his foot!"

He quickly sped to my side and took his foot in his hand.

"Fortunately, it's stopped bleeding," he informed me as he examined the foot. "Although, it will again once Doctor Lafayette pulls this out."

"Wait, can't you do it?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "I know nothing of this sort, and I suppose you don't either, correct?"

I shook my head "no". Without a word, Master resumed cleaning the boy's chest and arms while I did his other foot. It seemed rather strange to me to not, at least, attempt to pull the piece of glass from his foot, but I would be very wise to not argue with Master.

I finished with the feet and legs.

"I'll start on his face," I said to Master.

Master nodded his head absently. I wonder why he wears a rag over his face, I thought.

It wasn't as if he needed one, either. His forehead was partially exposed, as well as his chin and mouth. I replaced the blood stained rag with another clean one and began wiping away crusty, dried up food from his chapped, shriveled lips. Master was right; he was blistering hot. I finished with his mouth and chin quickly.

I reached over and slipped my hands behind his head and found the knot to the rag. I began untying it rather slowly, for it was tied on quite tightly and was rather hard to get loose. Eventually, the ends of the cloth came apart. I yanked the rag from his face quickly. And as soon as I did, a high pitched scream reverberated around the room.

A/N: So, was it good? Mediocre? Bad? Horrible? Please tell me in a review. I really hoped you like this, although if anyone didn't, I can understand. Not everyone likes the same thing. I hope you're not disappointed about me making Christine's father a little mean. I didn't really want to, but I wouldn't have been able to write the story if I made him nice. His strict, bitter nature in this fits in with other things I'm going to have happen. I'm already working on chapter two, so it should be up very quickly, along with chapter three. So, please review and I'll be sure to reply to them. Thanks.

-phantomangel132


	2. An Unexpected Surprise

THE MASK AND THE ROSE

A/N: Thank you so much for all the ones who reviewed! I can't tell you how much it motivated me to continue writing this story. I'm very pleased you all liked chapter one. In this next chapter, it will be kind of slow, but good (I hope). That's why I backed it up with chapter three, which hopefully is a much more exciting chapter than the second. Well, anyways, please leave me a review once your done reading this chapter and I'll be sure to reply to it.

-phantomangel132

THE MASK AND THE ROSE:

Chapter Two: An Unexpected Surprise

Christine's P.O.V:

I paced the carpeted marble floor as mama, papa, and Gerard kept locked inside the bedroom. The muffled sound of clinking glass and quick murmurs echoed through the hard oak door. Even though mama had demanded I wait in my room, I couldn't help but listen at the door. I knew I needed to be cautious because Gerard already had bustled in and out of the room once. It was a great possibility it could happen once more.

With the impatience of a young child, I sighed in agitation and carefully pressed my ear against the door.

"I'll start on the face," I heard Gerard's deep rumbling voice say.

I pressed my ear harder against the wood with hope I could hear anything else… Nothing; only silence greeted my eager ears. I leaned my back against the wall and busied myself with twirling a strand of curly light brown hair around my index finger.

Suddenly, a high pitched scream sounded from within the room. I started violently from my thoughts, my heart beginning it's quick pace. I turned the brass knob and swung the door open. Why had mama screamed? Was she alright? It couldn't have possibly been papa who made that horrible noise! Well, Gerard maybe….

I dashed into the room and saw mama cowering in the farthest corner of the room. Gerard pressed himself against the wall, his eyes wide and face dreadfully pale.

"Oh my…" papa groaned as he concealed his face within his hands.

My worries were directed at mama and I immediately rushed to her.

"Mama," I asked," what happened?"

She continued to sob in her arms.

"Mama-"

"Christine!" papa roared. "Go to your room, now."

I looked up from mama's trembling form and stared papa in the eyes, but I did not follow his command.

"Go to your room, as I asked," papa repeated between gritted teeth.

I broke my gaze from papa and glanced over at Gerard, and then at the bed where the little boy lay. I froze instantly, every muscle taut and rigid. I stiffly staggered to the side of the bed and peeked over the top at the face of the boy.

Fear welled in my throat and my mouth grew dry like sandpaper for the boy's face wasn't normal. It didn't even look human or alive, for that matter! The skin was a nauseating yellow color, the skin stretched tightly over protruding cheekbones and a tall forehead. The eyes were deeply set, eyes that remind you of the skull of a skeleton's. I needn't describe the nose for there was none; just a black, gaping hole in the middle of his face. A well formed jaw and finely sculpted lips were the only normal aspects of his appearance.

I tried to move way from the bed, but my legs resisted, staying rigid and tight. Papa's familiar grip wrapped itself around my upper arm and gently pulled me from the bed. He sat on the divan sitting against the wall and lifted me onto his lap.

"It will be alright, Christine," papa whispered soothingly. Long gone was the angry, chastising papa I'd seen moments earlier.

But I knew it wouldn't be alright. Even though I was free of the horrible sight of the boy, I couldn't close my eyes without seeing that-that _dead_ head resting on the downy pillows.

I buried my face in papa's chest and inhaled the rich spice scent of his clothing. Papa wrapped his arms around me tighter and rubbed my back soflty. We sat like that for many moments, mama's sobs eventually fading into heavy, worn out breathing. I jerked my head from papa's chest when the soft clicking of footsteps reverberated off the bedroom's wooden floor. Doctor Lafayette stood with a black leather case hanging from his hand. He glanced from mama, to Gerard, and then questioningly at papa.

"Over on the bed, monsieur," papa directed as he pointed over to his bed.

Doctor Lafayette moved his gaze over to the still creature on the bed.

"Oh my goodness!" Doctor Lafayette excaimed as his hand flew to cover his heart.

His face went pale, and then he looked at papa again. "_That_ is the boy?"

"Please, Armand, he needs your help," papa pleaded. "He most likely won't survive if you don't shove aside your fears and save him."

Doctor Lafayette nodded his head, his eyes once again on the boy. "I can start to work on him once I am alone, but Pierre, I would rather have you in my company, if you don't mind."

"No, I don't," papa replied, then he turned his eyes on me and began lifting me off his lap. "Christine, you must go back to your room now or stay with mother."

"No!" I cried as I hugged my arms tighter around his waist. "Please, let me stay with you. I promise I won't make any noise and I won't interfere."

Papa glanced at Doctor Lafayette who waited patiently near the double oak doors.

"It's fine with me, Pierre," he said. "Christine is always wonderfully behaved when I come for a monthly checkup."

Papa settled on the divan once more and took me in his arms. Gerard walked to mama and lifted her off the floor and guided her from the room. Doctor Lafayette closed the door and removed his black cloak and set the leather case at the foot of the bed. He rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt and went to the side of the bed to examine the boy.

"There is a piece of glass stuck in the bottom of his foot, also," papa informed the doctor as he studied the bruises and cuts along his arms, legs, and chest.

"My goodness, Pierre," Doctor Lafayette gasped, "where did you find this boy?"

"Gerard found him in the second storage room," papa answered. "He was lying on the ground, unconscious. Do you know what happened to him, Armand?"

Doctor Lafayette nodded his head 'yes'. "I can tell from the scars along with the bruises and cuts that he may have been beaten... and very badly. He probably came from somewhere especially dirty, say the streets or woods, for he carries a drastically arising fever."

He rubbed his waist. "And he's got a broken rib."

I watched silently as Doctor Lafayette smoothed ointment onto his cuts and covered them with a white bandage. I hid my eyes when he plucked the large, jaggad piece of glass sticking from his foot. He wrapped both of the boy's feet with a white cloth and wrapped the same cloth around his waist for the broken rib. Doctor Lafayette unrolled his shirt sleeves and replaced the black cloak when finished.

"Well, that wasn't so difficult to do," he admitted when papa rose from the divan.

"Thank you very much Armand," papa thanked gratefully.

"Pierre, I would like to have a weekly checkup on him, if you don't mind," Doctor Lafayette said. "I need to check on that broken rib, but in the meantime, rub this ointment and replace the bandages on him each morning and night. And for the fever, I want you to feed him this medicine. It will help immensely."

Papa put me down for a moment and gathered the objects Doctor Lafayette shoved into his hands. "You are more than welcome to come when you think necessary. But thank you for coming. We all appreciate it."

Doctor Lafayette nodded his head and turned and opened the door. Before he left, he looked at papa again and said, "And, Pierre, please have one of your servants wash his hair ans clean him up a bit. He reeks as if he hasn't bathed in months."

* * *

Papa and Gerard carried the boy to one of the spare bedrooms near my own. Gerard offered a clean, white tunic and white leggings for the boy to wear. The filthy, ripped up pants would not do for the time being. Each morning and evening, I snuck from my room and slipped into his bedroom. I watched silently as Amelia soothed the balm over his wounds and rebandaged them. In the afternoon, Amelia came in once more to force the syrupy liquid down his throat. I watched only once, and would have rather not. The yellow liquid would dribble down his chin and tunic front. My stomach squirmed at the sight, and each time afterwards thatAmelia asked for my company in the afternoon, I remorsefully rejected her invitation.

The boy showed no signs for many days of ever waking up. Ocassionally, during the first few days, he twitched and moaned several times. As the week progressed, he tossed and turned constantly and let out soft sighs or unintelligable mumbles. I couldn't help but smile when he mumbled randomly. There was one morning when the boy opened his eyes. I gasped lightly when I caught a glimpse of his eyes, for they were the most beautiful shade of gold I had ever seen. I suppose he heard my gasp because his eyes rapidly turned in my direction. I stared, mesmerised as he watched me, not even murming a single word or sound. We just stared at each other for the longest time, until, unfortunately, he once again closed his eyes.

It was one night in particular I never want to forget for it marked the beginning of our friendship. I snuck from my room and resumed in my usual place on the divan with a single lit candle. The boywas very still that night, which I found rather peculiar since he usually was restless at this time of day. I held my breath for several long moments before, to my surprise, he began to sit up in bed. I instantly shot up from the divan to his side.

"No!" I hissed. "Lay back down; you've broken your rib."

The boy instantly glanced at me with a slight shade of fear in his eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked hoarsely. "Where am I?"

His hands reached up to his face, his features contorting with horror when he realized nothing covered his deformity. I reached out quickly and removed his hands and held them in my own.

"Please do not be frightened," I said reassuringly. "My name is Christine Daae; I will not harm you. None of my family will."

The boy stared from me to our clasped hands. Without saying a word, he timidly withdrew his hand from mine.

"Where am I," he whispered.

"You are in Rouen, France," I replied. "At the Daae chateau."

The boy laid silently for a moment, probably lost in his own thoughts.

"What is your name?" I asked quietly after a few moments of silence.

He started from his thoughts and turned to look at me again.

The distrust flashing in his eyes slowly faded. "My name is Erik."

A/N: I don't really like the second part of this chapter, but it was the best I could think of at the moment. Please tell me what you think of this chapter in a review. Like I said before, this was supposed to be a slower chapter, but I can assure you the next will be more intense. It goes into more of the background of Erik.

-phantomangel132


	3. The Living Corpse

THE MASK AND THE ROSE

A/N: Hey guys, I am **so sorry** for not updating when I said I would (Saturday night.) You all must be pretty angry with me. But, unfortunately, I was unavoidably detained and I was not able to post this chapter, like I wanted to do. Anyways, I hope all of you will like this chapter. It's not the greatest introduction to Erik, but I did stay up **all **night and **all **day so I could provide you with a decent chapter three. Instead of promising on the exact date for when I'm going to post another chapter, I'll just tell you now that I usually post a chapter within 2-3 days. I **always **want to impress my readers and my best writing usually comes when I have done, at least, two or three drafts. Sometimes I update every day, but I can't really say. Now I'll stop rambling so you can read chapter three. Enjoy!

THE MASK AND THE ROSE:

Chapter Three: The Living Corpse

**Erik**

"The Living Corpse! Buy a Ticket and come see the most hideous boy in the world," I heard the ticket man call to all the passerby's, luring them in with his deep, menacing voice.

I clung to the iron bars of my cage, staring past the curtain at all the adults and children rapidly spilling into the stuffy tent. Every face in the crowd was alight with interest, their merry tones filling the air.

'Wait till they see me,' I thought bitterly. 'They won't be so happy once they leave _my _tent.'

Although, I couldn't blame anyone who was repulsed by the appearance of my face.

I was ugly; in fact, more than ugly. With my death's head and frail shoulders and body, I could easily be mistaken for a cadaver, or something like it.

I released the bars and crept further into the darkness of my cage.

"It's a big crowd tonight," my cage master, Adolphe, acknowledged from behind.

I turned enough to see him through the bars, counting the silver coins in his palm. When I didn't reply, he grasped the bars and stared at me with his black, beady eyes.

"You better not ruin this show, boy," he hissed. "Mark my words, if you do, your head will be on a platter. Do you understand me?"

I gulped and replied squeakily, "Yes, sir; I understand."

Adolphe flashed me a grim, toothy grin. "Good."

I sighed in relief when Adolphe wobbled away to welcome the new crowd. Through the small slit of the curtains, I could see him waving his chunky little hands through the air to command their attention. The crowd grew mute and gave Adolphe their undivided attention. Even though the show hadn't started yet, I could already feel the suffocating shame permeate through my limbs.

"Ladies and gentleman!" he boomed. "Children of all ages, behind this curtain lies the most despicable, horrifying, and hideous little boy that will ever walk upon the earth. Feast your eyes upon the figure of your worst nightmares; I present to you, the Living Corpse!"

With that, he tore the curtain back roughly, revealing my hunched form cowering away from the audience's eyes. My comforting darkness evaporated into thin air as the garishly bright lights shone on me. Many gasps resounded throughout the audience, but then faded into a hearty applause. The slamming of their hands echoed in my weary head.

Adolphe staggered to the small entrance and unlocked it. He swung open the door and squeezed inside, making his way towards me. I didn't move or utter a single sound as he stood by my side and stared down at me expectantly.

"Get up," he demanded.

My heart's pace quickened at the frightfulness of his tone. I lifted myself to my feet, but I suppose not fast enough.

"I said get up!" Adolphe roared as he grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and jerked me up violently.

I gave a cry of pain and swished my arms about to free myself from his tight clutch. Adolphe released my neck and, instead, twined his sausage like fingers through my greasy, raven black hair.

"Be still you little monster!" he spat sharply, and then thrusted my head upwards, so the audience could clearly see me.

Tears stung my eyes from the piercing sensations gnawing all around my scalp. Adolphe pulled me closer to his chest; his fingers remaining locked in my hair, and placed his other hand on the hem of the filthy rag tied around my head.

"May I present to you, the Living-Dead Boy!" Adolphe bellowed as he whipped the rag away from my face and tossed it carelessly to the side. "Feast your eyes upon his dead flesh!"

Women shrieked and children cried when they got an eye full of the sallow skin stretched tightly over protruding bones, my sunken eyes and cheeks, and then the black hole substituting as my nose.

I didn't fight to conceal my face within my hands. There was no point. In that moment, like all the previous, I allowed myself to spiral down into a swirling black pool of self shame and hatred; hatred for myself and for all the cruel people who paid to watch me drown.

Adolphe tossed me across the cage with a strength I never guessed he could possess by first glances. I tumbled across the dirty floor like a limp rag doll and lay there helplessly and gasping for breath as I awaited the next tortures I would inevitably suffer.

I tried to move my arms, but they stayed limp and still by my sides. I closed my eyes and could almost imagine Adolphe's fist raised high above his head, ready to slam down on my fragile little body. Instead, I felt his shoe slightly nudge into my ribcage. I barely moved a muscle. A little harder, he nudged me once more.

"Get up," he commanded between gritted teeth.

I pathetically attempted to lift myself, but my arms gave way underneath and I again toppled to the ground.

All of a sudden, Adolphe kicked me so hard in the ribs that I rolled across the floor and struck my head against the iron bars. Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes and I struggled to catch my breath because of the splintering pain that came from my ribs. The crowd burst out in laughter, yet there were a few children in the audience who were clinging to their mother's skirts while sobbing.

Adolphe knocked me all about the cage, making the members of the crowd snicker and taunt me as I writhed like a snake on the ground and twisted all around. My knees were scuffed up from the hard ground rubbing up against my skin, and several new bruises covered my arms and legs. A large bump had formed on my head from when I slammed into the iron bars and the unbearable pain emitting from my ribcage convinced me I'd broken something.

I crawled to a corner and curled into a small ball when the show was finally finished. As the people passed by, they threw little scraps of stale bread between the bars, which was meant to hit me, not to feed me, or a small pebble. My heart sunk in the hearth of my stomach when I noticed how little money was dropped into the cage.

When all had exited from the tent, Adolphe searched the ground for all the money. His eager face fell drastically when he collected only three silver coins. He balled his hands into tight fists, his knuckles turning white.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered as tears leaked from my eyes and into my hair. "I tried my best tonight, but-"

"Shut up!" he snapped.

Adolphe climbed to his feet and stalked from the cage. Before he left, he picked up the rag I used to cover my face and threw it at me.

"Put that on, boy," he seethed. "No one wants to look at your sorry excuse for a face."

I obeyed his command quickly and tied the rag around my head tightly. I wrapped my arms around my shoulders and silently wept. I knew he would be back that night. And I carried a strange sense of dread that this was the last night I would ever see again.

* * *

I stared up at the cage's ceiling, my eyes roving over ever aspect and line. I'd waited there for what seemed forever for Adolphe to come back, but he never did.

'Maybe he isn't going to come at all,' I thought.

My mood lightened at the idea, but soon faded when I remembered the way he'd reacted after the final show.

'No,' I thought again. 'He's probably just gone for the night to drink away his frustrations. He'll be back sooner or later. Either way, he'll come.'

I pulled the thin blanket to my chin and closed my tired eyes. A few moments passed before I heard heavy breathing and the dragging of someone's feet. I opened my eyes once more and used my arms to raise me to a sitting position.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw Adolphe heave himself over to the cage door with an object in his hand. I heard the jiggling of the lock and then the door swing open.

"Sir," I greeted hoarsely.

"Stand up," he slurred as he snatched my arm and wrenched me to my feet.

I gave a loud cry when a pinching sensation ached around my ribcage. Adolphe grabbed me by the back of my neck and guided me over to the iron bars, pressing me against them roughly. I turned my head and caught a glimpse of the object in his hand: a leather belt.

"Sir, please, no," I beseeched. "Please, no."

He shoved me harder into the bars. "Be quiet, you little demon!"

Adolphe raised his arm high and then brought the thick leather down on my back. I gripped the bars tighter and squeezed my eyes shut from the sharp sting of the freshly lacerated skin. Before he could strike me again, I shifted out of the way so the belt hit the bars instead, and I crumpled to the floor.

"Get back here!" he bellowed as I dragged my body away from him.

It was useless, though, because he caught up to me quickly and seized me by the hair. I clawed at his hands viciously as Adolphe brought the belt down on any part of me he could. Crimson blood leaked from all the wounds covering my stomach, legs, chest, and arms. The piercing sting brought many tears that sluiced down my cheeks in torrents.

After a while, Adolphe slowed a bit, his breath coming in quick spurts, until he collapsed to his knees. I glared at him with ardent hatred blazing in my eyes as he let the belt slip from his hands. He leaned over and set his hands on the ground, letting his head hang as if he were going to be nauseous.

I lay sprawled across the floor thinking there was nothing I could do; that I was helpless and done for, until my eyes fell upon the wooden water bowl sitting upside down beside my head. I glanced from the water bowl to Adolphe slumped onto the ground. An idea gnawed around the corners of my mind, until it became all consuming.

I used a small portion of my remaining strength to quietly grab the piece of wood and slowly crawl behind Adolphe. When I was close enough, I lifted my arm and aimed it for his temple, where the blow would undoubtedly knock him unconscious. Adolphe saw me from the corners of his eye and turned his head to face me.

"What are you—"he rasped before I struck his temple as I hard as I could manage.

His body went limp and slumped to the ground. I dropped the bowl and set my fingers to the side of his neck to check his pulse. It was weak, but he was still alive. I fished through his pocket for the ring of keys he always carried around. When I found it, I pulled the ring from his pocket and dragged myself to the small door. I used the bars to lift myself to a standing position and leaned my shoulder against it when I was up. I fumbled through ever single key and stuck them into the lock until I finally found the right one. Opening the door, I gingerly stepped from the cage and quietly closed the door, tossing the ring of keys to the side.

I smiled to myself as I staggered from the tent and lived those first few blissful moments as a free boy.

* * *

Wiry branches and bristly shrubs scraped against my bruised skin as I staggered through the thick woods I'd escaped to after leaving my past at the carnival. My long fingers wrapped around my side to ease the throbbing ache pulsing from my broken rib. Everything was dark and my senses were so disoriented, but I never stopped or looked back once.

I finally collapsed to the ground when I lost all my breath and leaned my good shoulder against the trunk of a tall tree and closed my eyes as I regained my breath. All was silent around me, except for the slight rustling of the branches and leaves. I must have fallen asleep there for I awoke the next morning with the sun's rays peeking between the boughs and into my eyes.

I set off that day slowly and deliberately through what seemed a never-ending nightmare of trees and bushes. I would have enjoyed the natural beauty of the lush, green trees and wildflowers usually, yet I found that rather hard when my health was diminishing before my very eyes.

Through the night, I'd regained a small portion of my strength and it lasted during the morning, until the late afternoon arrived. The exhaustion and pain in my arms and legs was excruciating while hunger clawed ravenously at my empty stomach. My throat yearned for the cool, flowing liquids of water and I could almost taste the sweetness of it as I imagined a lazy river streaming somewhere throughout the woods; although my wishes weren't granted until the following day.

It was early in the morning as the sun was ascending into the sky. For the past few hours, my face and hands had risen in temperature, despite the coolness of the late-Spring morning. I stumbled my way past many pine trees with my head hanging and my arms dangling limply at my sides. When I looked up, in the distance I spotted a wide river. I pathetically jogged to the river and fell to my knees at the edge in complete rapture.

I bent over and lapped up the water like a thirsty animal, bending down lower until my head dipped beneath the water's surface. I sat back on my heels once more and threw the rag to the side and cupped my hands into the water and spilled it over my upturned face. I shut my eyes as the cool liquid trickled between my eyes and down my neck, making a tremor race down my spine.

I wetted my hair and scrubbed off the dirt caked onto my feet and around my ankles. I tried to clean the cuts around my body to my best ability, and I discovered several cuts infected. It didn't surprise me, though, for living with the gypsy's meant that taking a bath was not an important priority.

After playing in the water for awhile, I decided to make my way across to the other side.

'Why not try?' I thought. 'The water doesn't look too deep and it's not swift enough to be considered dangerous, which is good.'

And even if I didn't want to cross the river, it would be my only option to stay away from the carnival. If I followed along the side, it would most likely lead me right back to where I started, from the looks of what direction it turned at the end.

I gingerly stuck my foot in the water and felt how deep it was, which it only came to the middle of my shins. I climbed the rest of the way into the water and tried to balance on the large rocks covering the bottom of the river. Carefully, I made my way across. I smiled pridefully at my graceful agility in the water, and for the first time since I could remember, I felt the swells of mild ecstasy blossom in my chest. It didn't last long for me, though, for nothing did concerning joy.

Over halfway in the river, I stepped on a sharp rock that punctured through the bottom of my foot. At first, I didn't know what happened. All of the sudden, there was this piercing pain that shot all throughout my leg. I released a cry and toppled into the mild river. I was pushed beneath the surface, and the water rushed over me swiftly. I couldn't breathe and all the water kept shoving itself down my throat. The rocks grated over my back and legs as the water pushed me farther down stream and, thankfully, I slammed into a large rock I helped raise myself above the surface with.

I sucked in great gulps of air as I tried to regain the senses that had begun to fade from lack of oxygen. I used almost all my strength and dragged myself the rest of the way across the river and pulled myself onto the ground. I trembled violently and my teeth chattered from the rush of chills and numbness invading my body.

I rubbed my chest to spread warmth throughout my limbs, and when I'd recovered somewhat, I hoisted my upper body up and supported my shoulder on a weak little tree. I gently tugged my foot into my lap and cradled it in my hands. I gave a low groan when I beheld the round, bleeding gash right at the heel of my foot. I crept to the side of the river and stuck my foot in to wash the blood away.

Slow tears ran down my cheeks as the icy water roved over the fresh wound. I tossed the sodden rag in my hand to the side and tore along the hem of my pant leg until I had a long, thick strip of cloth. I pulled my foot into my lap again and cautiously wrapped the material around the heel of my foot and ankle to keep it secure, and then I pressed on the wound to soak up some of the blood still oozing between the sliced skin.

I spotted a very long, thickstick lying close to me, and I picked it up to help me walk through the rest of the forest.

Once I set off after that, I limped with the stick to support my unstable side and didn't stop to rest for the remaining of the day until the late afternoon. I nestled into a small dent in the ground and curled into a small ball.

I awoke before the crack of dawn trembling and sweaty. I brushed my fingertips across the exposed flesh of my forehead and neck, and then pulled back in alarm. My skin was blazing hot! I lifted my head and it lolled from side to side from the heaviness of it. A massive headache penetrated any thought that ran through my head, and at my sudden condition that morning, I began to silently weep.

I was so weak and helpless, it was pathetic. But I wouldn't give up. The hope that had built in my chest days ago still surged in my heart. And even if I didn't survive through this, at least I would die knowing I put every remaining effort escaping from that prison I thought I was condemned to forever.

I snatched the stick lying next to me and hoisted myself to my feet. The pain from the gash burned through my foot and leg, but I pushed it aside and began my journey for the day.

Everything seemed different that morning. My side ached and I could barely take a breath without doubling over in pain. The bleeding from the gash continued until the piece of cloth was completely sodden and my feet were brown with dried blood. My throat was so dry, I could barely swallow without gagging and any thought running through my head barely functioned right.

The longer I traveled, the more the sky began to lighten somewhat. And if my eyes weren't deceiving me, I could swear in the distance I spotted something….

I weakly hauled my legs to move at a quicker pace. I brushed all the thin twigs and hanging branches out of the way and focused my eyes ahead. When I reached my destination, I found myself at the end of the thick woods and standing on an immense clearing of evenly trimmed grass. Even though it was still dark, I could see in front of me the faint outline of a lovely chateau on the outskirts of the forest. Many trees surrounded the chateau and a small white path weaved a trail through the blades of grass, leading to a rich garden.

As I walked closer, I tried to peer into the windows, but they were too heavily curtained to see anything. I circled around the house, my eyes taking in every intricate detail I could catch.

I started and hid behind a row of bushes when I heard the squeaking of a door swing open and heavy footsteps. An older woman with a white apron and a white cap came bustling out of the house while humming a lullaby. I couldn't understand why anyone would be up this early, but I suppose she had her reasons. I saw that she left the door swinging open as she opened another door and entered the room, shutting the door behind her.

The dim, welcoming light glowing from indoors lured me through the open door. I shifted my gaze curiously around the room. It was a small, but comfortable kitchen that was dimly lit by the gas lanterns hanging on the wall. Flour was splattered all over the wooden counter and in the corner sat a large bowl filled with rising dough. Many different sharp knifes were placed in small racks to the side. I wandered farther into the room and traced objects with the tips of my fingers. A wry smile played across my lips as a sense of ease and comfort washedover the suffering and hopelessness.

I started violently when the sound of a slamming door and the familiar, soft lullaby made its way to my ears, and I quickly retrieved my hand as I spotted the door leading out of the kitchen. I emerged from the room quietly and into a vast corridor leading in all different directions.

I chose a wooden door near the one I just came from and quickly entered it and closed the door behind me. My eyes were so well adjusted to the blackness, I could tell I was standing in a storage room.

I wasn't completely ignorant of the normal ways of living to not know anything about a chateau. Father had been a very distinguished architect and provided mother and I with a chateau similar to this one. In the previous one, there had been only one storage room even though there were usually two, depending on one's wealth.

The shelves were lined with brown sacks filled with mixing substances like flour and powdered sugar. My stomach twisted ravenously when my gaze fell upon the decorative white boxes which contained delicious chocolate truffles. When I lived with mother and father, I snuck into the storage room at night and greedily devoured every delicate morsel until queasy. At that time, it was all I had to eat since mother failed to feed me like a _good_ parent wouldn't have done. No; I'd rather not think of those years…

I lifted my hand to reach for the box on the uppermost shelf, but I heard the pitter-patter of someone's footsteps and nearly flew to the end of the room where I'd spotted another splintered, wooden door. I turned the knob and creaked the door open and slipped inside, closing the door behind me. This room was much darker than the other, and I had to strain my eyes to see anything. I held my side and limped around the room, using my other hand as a guide to make sure I didn't knock into anything I didn't happen to see. The only thing on my mind at the moment was the food surrounding me. It was like utopia, this storage room. I grabbed a random tin container and popped open the top. The smooth, yet tangy aroma wafted into the air, and I gladly inhaled the sweet smell. My hand plunged into the container and snatched several perfectly cut cheese cubes and stuffed them into my mouth. The small bits of cheese tasted sharp, nipping at the tip of my tongue. Little bits of cheese were falling here and there, but I was too hungry to care.

I placed the tin container back onto the shelf and grabbed a long and thinner container. I chewed on the stale crackers inside, but quickly gave those up for dried pasta noodles. My mouth was too dry and I winced at the sharp tips that grazed my throat.

I replaced that tin container, also, and stumbled across the room. I almost reached the other side of the storage room, until my foot suddenly tripped over a large object lying limply on the ground. I staggered forward and caught myself on one of the long glass wine bottles jutting from the wall (for there was an entire wall lined with wine bottles).

There was the shattering of glass as a wine bottle slipped from its slot; I stepped forward to prevent myself from falling and stepped on a piece of broken glass. A great lightening bolt of pain shot up my foot and into my leg. I started and abruptly pushed away from the wall and fell backwards. I was aware of tin objects and heavy sacks falling down around me. Hundreds of thoughts surged through my mind, but before anything could register, my senses faded to black and I knew nothing more.

* * *

My senses slowly drifted back to me through the heavy drug of sleep. As my awareness eventually made its way back to me, I felt as if someone had been hammering on the inside of my forehead. I tried to lift my arm to bring it to my head, but it weakly fell back onto something soft. I opened my eyes in surprise for I remembered the hardness of the ground, not the softness I felt now. Instead of the swallowing darkness that had surrounded me for what seemed an eternity, I was lying in a warm room full of comforting sunshine pouring in from the heavily curtained windows, caressing my twisted face.

I glanced down and saw I was wearing a white tunic and noticed the cleanliness of the leggings wrapped around my lower body. A great weight pressed itself down on my ribcage. I couldn't even suck in a breath of air without wincing from the dull ache emitting there. For a moment, I tried to remember the morning I snuck into the food storage, but everything was in pieces.

I attempted to lift my upper body, but the heaviness weighed me down onto the fluffy pillows cradling my weak neck and head. Instead, my eyes wandered slowly around the bedroom. A tiny bureau was placed to the side of the massive bed with a red rose placed in the center of an exotic vase adorning the top. Frilly, ivory curtains hung froma single window.

Intricately formed rosebuds were carved into the edges of a mahogany wardrobe leaning against the opposite wall. When my curious gaze wandered to the slinky canopy above, a quiet intake of breath reached my ears. My attentions sharply turned from the canopy, unexplored, and immediately turned in the direction the noise came from.

There on a burgundy divan sat a delicate girl around my age, gawking at me with fascinated deep blue eyes. A lace ribbon held back a fair portion of curly light brown hair, the loose strands tumbling freely over her shoulders. She wore a white dress with little embroidered flowers framing the edge. If I were to be so bold, I would have to admit she was quite a lovely little creature. My stomach flipped and flopped about as I gazed into those blue eyes that mirrored a childlike innocence that accompanied her youth.

We stared at each other for the longest time. My mind scrambled frantically for something to say, but my throat was too dry to speak. I was convinced if I even opened my mouth, I would croak like a toad. I suddenly felt so dumb and weak as I just lay motionlessly on the four poster bed. A rush of heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks. I couldn't stand laying there feeling stupid, like I was, so I broke the moment and turned my eyes away from her and closed them, pretending to be asleep or even remotely tired.

I silently berated myself when I heard the soft click of the door. I was very much alone. Again.

* * *

I awoke with an acrid, sour taste coating my throat. It was a horrible taste; it gave me the strong desire to gag. I don't recall how long I slept, but when that girl left, sleep once again regained hold of me. Instead of awaking to the warm sunshine seeping through the windows, I was greeted by the blackness of night.

The heavy curtains were pulled back so I could peek outside to catch a glimpse of the blazing stars splashed across the ebony sky.

The bed room was dark as well. I tried many a time to catch up on more sleep, but I was in a restless state. The heaviness on my ribcage hadn't slightened and my breath was even shallower.

'I suppose I should try to sit up,' I thought. 'Breathing could possibly come easier.'

I used a portion of the strength I'd regained throughout my time of resting and attempted to lift myself with my arms supporting my upper body.

Out of no where, a small figure darted from the shadows and pushed me back onto the bed. My heart throbbed wildly in my chest for I hadn't seen anyone sitting in the room. I thought I'd been completely alone.

"No!" the figure hissed. "Lay back down; you've broken your rib."

My heartbeat softened to the regular, steady rhythm as I realized it was the little girl. This time, her hair spilled in luscious ringlets down the front of her white cotton nightgown, and her brows were furrowed into a thin, straight line.

"Who are you?" I suddenly spat. "Where am I?"

Her round eyes were riveted to my face, and as if a wake up call, I remembered the rag. I cautiously reached my hand to my face and discovered the cold, bare flesh. Horror welled in my chest and every muscle in my body went taut and rigid.

"Please do not be frightened," the girl pleaded as she took my hand and enfolded it in hers. "My name is Christine Daae; I will not harm you. None of my family will."

I stared at our clasped hands resting on the bed. For as long as I've remembered, no one had ever dared touch me. My mother wouldn't even allow me to touch my lips to her cheek! Her hand was like a warm velvet blanket wrapped around my hand. A lump began to form in my throat.

I timidly slipped my hand from Christine's and swallowed hard. "Where am I?"

My voice was tight and cautious; the complete opposite of what I wished it to sound.

"You are in Rouen, France," she answered. "At the Daae chateau."

My eyes widened and I furrowed my brow. Rouen, France? I couldn't have traveled that far….But I suppose it's possible from the long journeys I faced each day. Part of it must have been traveling with the gypsy's… Yes, that's it; the gypsy's. Adolphe never told me where we traveled to, or anything...

I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn't notice Christine had leaned in a little closer and cocked her head to the side.

"What is your name?" she asked quietly, making me jerk back a little.

I turned my gaze on her once more. She waited, unblinking, and looking me straight in the face.

'How can she look at me the way she is now?' I thought in my head. '_No one_ has ever had the ability to stare me straight in the face without flinching back in terror…..but, maybe she's different."

I loosened the chords of distrust strung around my heart and replied, "My name is Erik."

A/N: Poor, poor Erik! It was so hard for me to write this chapter. I always get so sad when I'm forced to recall memories in the gypsy carnival. Okay, I know this wasn't the best introduction to Erik, and I really wished I could have spent more time on it to conceive a better escape plan than hitting Adolphe over the head with a wooden bowl and the part where Erik sneaks into the Daae chateau and knocks himself out. I really, really wish I could have done better on those parts… But, anyhow, I am content with what I have written for an online thing. Once again, I am **so sorry** for the really long period of time of not updating. And to top it all off, I practically lied to you all and said I would update on a certain day. I feel so unreliable and horrible. I'm just not going to promise things like that anymore. Usually, I have a really easy time with writing a chapter, and I do know I usually update more than once a week or just once. But I am very good at updating and sticking to a story, so you can expect the next update soon. I just hope this chapter was worth the wait. I still wish I could have done better. By the way, there are a few things I need to explain about the chapters I have published, but I'm not really going to explain anything unless you ask in a review. Well, that's enough of what I have to say, and don't forget to leave a review. No reviews, no updates.

-phantomangel132

P.S. I know this chapter didn't really help the story progress much since it ended it the exact same place the previous chapter did, but that does mean more chapters (yay!) and EC goodness ( another yay!)

P.P.S. If you want to know, Erik is not in love with Christine right now. I'm not having the 'love at first sight' thing since I believe when you truly, purely love someone, you know the person inside and out. Erik's affection is more admiration right now.


	4. On the Road to Recovery

THE MASK ANS THE ROSE

A/N: I apologize to everyone for not updating for quite some time. I spent most of these past weeks planning out the chapters and figuring out how to begin this one. I should also say that even though it takes me a while to update sometimes, I will never quit on this story. Anyways, thanks to starryspark, trallgorda, mini nicka, and mayirella for coming back to read and review. I was very pleased with your feedback on chapter three, and I hope you enjoy this chapter much more, even though it's a little slower since Erik is still recovering.

-phantomangel132

P.S. Thanks to starryspark and trallgorda for pointing out to me that Christine's mother should be called 'Madame' and Christine herself should be called 'Mademoiselle'. I tried to edit that mistake in chapter one, but since it wouldn't let me, I'm just telling everyone now that the names have been switched.

THE MASK AND THE ROSE:

Chapter Four: On the Road to Recovery

**Christine**

I paced, back and forth before Erik's bedroom door as I waited for Amelia to finish changing Erik's bandages. It was the morning after he'd awakened and I'd promised before leaving to come back to explain the occurrences of the past week.

I started when the door swung open and Amelia bustled out with rolls of cloth and bottles of medicine tucked underneath her arm.

"Is he awake?" I asked hopefully.

"Yes," she replied. "He asked where you were the entire time and was wondering why you hadn't returned yet, or something. How does he know you, anyway?"

I looked down at my feet and mumbled, "I snuck into his room last night and he happened to be awake. Please don't tell mama or papa, though."

When I looked back up again, I saw Amelia roll her eyes and slightly shake her head back and forth.

"I don't know what were going to do with you, Christine," she said.

I smiled and opened Erik's bedroom door and slowly walked inside. The room was shady, but a few candles were lit in several different areas of the room. I shut the door behind me and glanced at the bed. Erik was lying there, staring at me, unblinking and silent.

"Do you always prefer to sit in the dark?" I asked to break the rather awkward moment.

He shook his head and murmured, "No."

"Would you care if I opened the drapes?" I asked. "I would feel more comfortable if I were able to see you clearly."

I could tell I'd caught him a bit off guard for he sputtered and stammered as he replied: "If-if you care to."

I crossed the room and threw open the drapes, relieved to be surrounded with the sun's morning rays instead of the suffocating blackness. The bedroom was immediately alight with a joyous feeling and the heavy ambience previously there seemed to dissipate into thin air. I plunked down on the divan and twined my fingers nervously together. I don't know why I was so nervous, but I could guess it was because Erik still lay there staring without uttering a word.

"Why are you so quiet?" I asked.

"I'm just waiting," he replied.

"Waiting for what?"

"For you to tell me what's happened the past week," he answered. "You promised last night, didn't you?"

"Oh," I said, a bit surprised. "Um, yes I did."

I inhaled deeply and glanced at Erik who waited patiently for me to speak.

"It was early in the morning when we found you," I began. "I usually visit my parents in their bedroom during breakfast. When I went in there that morning, papa and our butler, Gerard were arguing over something which I know nothing about. Gerard stormed from the room after the uproar and returned moments later with you unconscious in his arms. Apparently, he'd found you in the second storage room along with a rather large mess. The servants spent the entire afternoon cleaning up your mess."

The faintest shade of pink spread up through Erik's neck and sent an even more macabre appearance to his sallow skin.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I truly am very sorry. At that time, I wasn't thinking much of anything, except food."

I smiled and replied, "It's all right. I think the servants have forgiven you and I was never angry with you from the beginning."

Erik nodded his head to the best of his ability and said, "Please, continue."

"Oh, yes," I said, suddenly remembering what I'd been saying before; if only I could recall where I'd stopped. "Now where was I. Oh, I remember now! Anyways, the day we found you, papa sent for the family doctor, Armand Lafayette. Before he came, Gerard and papa set to work on cleaning you up a bit. Mama had sent me out of the room by that time and I was forced to content myself with pressing my ear against the door."

Erik smiled at this.

"It was when I heard mama scream did I come back into the room, and I saw you lying on the bed…."

I stopped at this point. Erik remained silent with his gaze suddenly turned from me. I was afraid I'd offended him and wouldn't want me to continue since he didn't show any signs of wanting to communicate with me.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I should have left that part out of the story if I didn't want to offend you."

Erik finally turned to me and replied, "I appreciate your honesty, and I'm glad you didn't sugar coat what happened the day you found me. And don't worry, I'm not offended. No one has ever been kinder to me than you have. Now, please continue."

I gave him a gentle smile and continued, "Doctor Lafayette arrived a few moments later and examined you. A piece of glass was stuck in one foot, a gash was in the other, many infected cuts covered you all over, and you had one broken rib. I could also add you stunk horribly!"

Suddenly, a sound so beautiful and enchanting emitted from Erik's mouth; he was laughing. I was mesmerized, and when he'd stopped laughing, I was still staring like a fool.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

"Your voice," I managed to squeeze out. "Your voice is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard."

"Thank you," he thanked gratefully with a small hint of a smile playing across his mouth.

Cheeks burning scarlet, I struggled to regain my composure and cleared my throat.

"Gerard lent a clean tunic and pair of leggings for you and Papa brought you into this room," I continued. "Amelia, the woman you met this morning, came in here every morning to change your bandages, rub ointments on your cuts, and fed you this disgusting yellow medicine Doctor Lafayette suggested you take.

During the time you were unconscious, I sat right here on this divan and watched you. I hoped you would wake and it wasn't until last night that you finally did."

"Is that it?" Erik asked once he realized I was finished.

I nodded my head and said, "There wasn't really anything important you missed."

"It just seems a little strange," he said," because I felt like I was gone for an eternity."

I opened my mouth to reply, but the door suddenly cracked open and Papa's large head peeked in.

"May I come in?" he asked.

I nodded my head and Papa opened the door wider and walked inside with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Good morning, Papa," I greeted.

"Good morning, my angel," he replied, his gaze slowly drifting to the bed.

"I see you are finally awake," Papa said stiffly, "and you have met my daughter,"

I turned my head to look at Erik. The wariness had crept back into his eyes.

"Y-yes," he stammered nervously. "I've been awake for some time now."

"If you care to, Gerard may carry you down to the drawing room where you may eat your breakfast," he offered. "There I can introduce you to the family and our servants."

"Yes, sir, I would like that very much," Erik replied.

"Good, I will send for Gerard."

Papa gave us a curt nod and then whirled around on his heel and strode from the room.

* * *

Erik gasped as Gerard lowered him onto the huge armchair.

"I apologize if I'm causing you pain," he said. "But we've got you pretty much settled now."

Gerard spread an aged quilt across Erik's lap and elevated both bandaged feet onto a stool. Erik shut his eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair.

'It must be horrible for him right now,' I thought. 'He can barely move around a little without wearing himself out.'

"Christine," Gerard said, "why don't you stay in here with him? Maybe help him if he has any trouble eating."

I nodded my head.

Brigette, our cook, brought us one bowl on a tray filled with chicken broth for Erik and a plate with red grapes, an egg omelet, and croissant for me. I nibbled on my croissant while Erik slurped the chicken broth greedily. We ate in silence, and when I'd finished eating my omelet, our little cocker spaniel puppy, Muppet, came trotting happily into the drawing room. I set my plate aside and picked Muppet up and let him sit on my lap while I finished off the red grapes. From the corner of my eye, I saw Erik watching.

"Do you like animals?" I asked as I petted Muppet's soft fur.

"More than you might think," Erik murmured as he stared at Muppet sadly, a faraway look in his eye.

"I used to have a dog similar to this," he suddenly said. "That was a long time ago, though…"

I decided not to question Erik about his past. I barely knew him and I suppose I could contain my insatiable curiosity until Erik decided to tell me his story. The despair in his eyes and distant manner told me he'd had a rough life so far, and it would be difficult to discuss.

"Mama never wanted an animal in the house," I told Erik. "But Papa said that I'm only going to be a child once, and I should have the pleasure of owning a pet. I've always thought Papa's spoiled me a bit."

"Do you enjoy it?" Erik asked.

"Enjoy what?"

"Being spoiled, "he answered.

"It's flattering that Mama and Papa care for me, but I never receive satisfaction from always getting _everything_," I admitted.

Erik was still watching Muppet as he licked his front paws.

"Would you like to hold him?" I asked. "He loves new people."

Erik nodded his head and I stood from the divan, setting Muppet momentarily on the floor. I moved the empty bowl and tray over on the coffee table and picked Muppet up again and placed him on Erik's lap. Muppet sniffed his hands cautiously, and then his tail began to wag wildly back and forth.

"He likes you," I said. "Try rubbing his belly. He loves anyone that rubs his belly."

Erik did as I said and we both laughed when Muppet's leg began shaking crazily.

"What's his name?" Erik asked.

"Muppet," I answered.

Erik played with Muppet for a few more moments before Mama and Papa came into the room. They were followed by Gerard, Amelia, Thomas, James, Brigette, and Monique (all the servants at our chateau.)

"Did you two have a good breakfast?" Papa asked.

"Yes," I replied. "It was wonderful."

Erik shook his head in agreement. Papa cleared his throat and began, "May I introduce to you my wife, Charlotte Daae."

Mama curtsied with a slight smile in Erik's direction.

"You've already met my little Christine," Papa continued. "And the rest are our servants: the butler, Gerard; Amelia, one of the housemaids; our cook, Brigette; James, our messenger boy; Thomas, whocleans the stables and handles the horses; and Monique, who is another housemaid."

All curtsied or bowed with a delighted smile. Erik glanced shyly at each and said shakily, "My name is Erik. It's wonderful to meet you all."

I felt a brief stab of pity. Erik looked a little frightened and so nervous. I gave Erik a reassuring look and he seemed to calm a bit. All the servants welcomed Erik and eventually they all cleared away, back to their household chores. Papa and Mama left too, and Erik seemed a bit relieved.

Erik sighed and said quietly after a moment, "I think I'm ready to go back to my bed about now."

* * *

Each of the following days was pretty much the same. Once I'd waken, I'd race into Erik's bedroom and Gerard would carry him down to the drawing room. Very few words passed between us, at first. I didn't know what to say to someone ill and he was rather reluctant to say anything, either.

The first week since he'd waken, Erik would only stay awake for a few hours before he'd knock himself out. He tried harder each day to stay awake a little longer, and he did make progress, but it wasn't till later did he finally regain complete strength.

Doctor Lafayette came for frequent visits. On the first visit, he was rather pleased Erik was healing so rapidly, although his splintered rib would take a few months. The wounds around his body slowly closed up and he was allowed to remove several bandages, even though Doctor Lafayette seemed a bit wary of it all.

May faded and June came. Erik had healed enough to stand and walk around, but he was always required to use a cane when he was up and about. Our relationship grew each day, and every day in the mornings, Erik and I strolled around the chateau or through Mama's exquisite garden. He mostly listened as I spoke as we both admired Mama's roses or lilacs. When my voice grew hoarse, he was forced to talk since we both seemed to dislike awkward silences.

I loved listening to Erik speak. His voice was so soft and angelic, I sometimes felt as if I were in a trance. Erik proved to be rather surprising, too. I almost couldn't believe it when he told me his greatest interests were music, architecture, and art. He sounded like a genius as he shared his opinions of a particular piece of music or commented on a certain structure that he thought needed improvement.

I decided to not share my own musings of becoming an Opera singer or my opinions with Erik. I was afraid he might think I was too simple in mind compared to him, and I liked Erik too much to make him think ill of me. I knew I was victim to bearing an overly imaginative mind, and to Erik, my thoughts might be plain laughable.

Once we'd finished walking around the chateau's grounds, Erik and I would go inside and sit in the drawing room and play with Muppet or continue with our deep conversations until Mama called us to the dining room.

Life seemed never better for me since I'd had a friend by my side.

A/N: So, how did you like it? It was a little slower than the rest, but I have good plans for the next one. I don't know if it's just me or not, but for a kid version of Christine, does she sound like she's out of character or not? If she does sound that way, please tell me in a review how you think I should improve on Christine's character. Thanks.

-phantomangel132

P.S. Since chapter two, I have notified my readers when a new chapter is up. I've decided not to anymore since it takes up to much time to send messages to each and every one of you. Just thought I'd let you guys know.


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